The Ancient Games
by Shuisi
Summary: Percy Jackson is the most dangerous demigod alive. The people of Panem can see the beginning of a rebellion brewing in his veins, but he is barely keeping himself alive. Unfortunately, Percy may have the gods in his favour, but what is a god to a non-believer?
1. Dreams of Drowning

**The Ancient Games**

 _ **Dreams of Drowning**_

Percy gasped for air, trying to ignore the cold icy fist that had closed around his lungs. Coughs racked his frame, and he felt his mind fog over with the lack of oxygen. Which was why a minute later, he was shaking uncontrollably due to both laughter and fear. Because really, a son of Poseidon having nightmares about drowning? That must be some kind of dark irony sent from the heavens. He couldn't drown even if he wanted to.

The dream was covered in hazy mist now, the memory trickling out of his hands like sand. Percy suspected that in a few minutes, he would hardly be able to remember the details at all. It was only the familiarity of the dream that allowed him to relive the reoccurring nightmare.

For weeks now, every time he closed his eyes, the same dream chained him to unconsciousness, forcing him to endure it, until he woke up violently coughing phantom water out his lungs. He was haunted by a dark smirk that looked like it was painted with shadows. Not to mention an agonising pain in his arm, and flashes of colour like golden hair, dark red stains, and the clouded blue of the water he was drowning in. In the dream, the white-hot pain always blanked out his mind for a moment before he realised he was drowning. Then the water would fill his lungs, clog his mind, and with his heart pounding in his chest, fists clenched so hard his knuckles were white, Percy would wrench himself out of his dream, sobbing for air.

This time was no different. His breaths came out in quick, hot pants, and Percy could visibly see himself shaking. It was pathetic, and he was just glad that no one else was here to see it.

After a few minutes he still found it hard to inhale evenly. _It was just a dream_ Percy chanted like a nursery rhyme, like a fairy tale, because that was all those words meant to him. They were hopeful, but he was too old for them to be true now. Percy's dreams almost always meant something, he found that out a long time ago. And like every other time, all he could do was fiercely hope that the scenes never came true.

Glancing up, only now did he noticed that the ocean waves were crashing into one another deafeningly around him. He realised that the water must have responded to his agitation. Grey waves smashed into each other flinging up enough spray to douse Percy if he could get wet. Dangerous currents spun at high speeds right under the water, and the Pax was practically floating in the eye of a hurricane.

Out of the corner of his eye, Percy saw lightening streak the clouds in a golden flash. The next flash of light was closer. Percy stretched out a hand and closed his eyes, concentrating on calming his thoughts down until the tugging in his gut gradually released.

"There was really no need for you to join in Zeus, though I really appreciate your continuous attempts to murder me." He shouted at the sky, which thankfully did not reply.

Slumping back down and turning his head to see the sun, he saw that it was almost morning as the sky was filled with fiery reds and softer oranges, the sun just over the horizon. Percy could swear that he had just fallen asleep a few minutes ago. Sometimes, he wondered if Kronos was messing with him, or if it was just his ADHD acting up again.

He could imagine Kronos's mocking laugh if he was late to the Reaping. Not that it was going to happen, being late to the Reaping was unheard of and was probably punishable by death. Death seemed like Panem's go-to punishment because the Peacekeepers were not the greatest creative thinkers of the century. Then again, were the Peacekeepers good at anything? Oh right, killing people. As soon as he got the chance, he would drown all the watches in District 4, just to show Kronos who he was messing with.

Sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Percy gently willed the boat to make its way back to shore, and when he got there, he tied the boat down, his hands working like they had been doing this for his whole life. A voice suddenly broke through the peaceful silence of the early morning, the voice worryingly close to his head.

"Where have you been? The Reaping is this afternoon, and you haven't been home at all this night. Did you think you could just miss the Reaping and get away with it? You're a son of Poseidon, Percy, that doesn't mean you're invincible."

Percy rolled his eyes as he tilted his head back so that he could still tie the knots while talking. A close-up of Annabeth's upside down face glared at him. Her blonde princess curls tickled his nose.

Annabeth had intimidating grey eyes that looked as hard as stone sometimes and as soft as water other times. She also had a golden tan from spending hours every day out in boats and the relentless sun with Percy. He and Annabeth were about the same height too (He would never admit that he was still shorter). He tried to protest against it, but Annabeth would not rest until she succeeded in humiliating him.

All in all, Annabeth was as pretty as summer, something that she didn't seem to know herself, and if Percy told her, she would probably either start giving him a lecture on genetics, or her intense soul-searching look that always had Percy burning up from the inside.

Annabeth was his best friend, and she had a secret that she couldn't tell anyone, a secret that only he knew about. A secret that was exchanged in the middle of the ocean, a hundred miles away from shore so that there was no one- not even President Snow and his tendency to know everything- could overhear.

Annabeth was a runaway from District 3. The details weren't very clear even to Percy, but he knew it had something to do with her parents. She had made her way across the border when she was 4, and Percy had found her half drowned on the beach while he was exploring the coastline. Arrangements had been made, and Annabeth had hacked herself into the system, so everyone thought that she had just been here her entire life. Their plan to keep Annabeth's history as unnoticeable as possible was pretty much completely ruined by her fierce intelligence and her absolute genius mind. You just didn't get people as smart as that in District 4- Percy liked to use himself as Exhibit A.

"It's still morning, Annabeth, most normal people aren't even up yet." Percy stood up, and examined Annabeth. She look like she was ready for the reaping already, her hair combed and clean. A hand-me-down dress from when Percy's mom was a kid was a little loose on her, but other than that she looked like…Annabeth. Like she was ready to take on the world and win. Not that she was entered in the reaping since she wasn't a demigod, but mortals had to dress up too, they couldn't exactly hang around the town centre in rags in front of cameras. The government would hate it if District 4 looked like how it really was on every other day of the year, being a career district.

And Percy looked like he had been sleeping in the middle of the ocean, which was exactly what he had been doing. His hair was sticking up all over the place, sea salt making it stiff, giving him perpetually messy hair. His casual clothes were rumpled and if his eyes were as tired as he felt, they would probably be half closed too. He needed to get home to get ready for the reaping.

"You look great Annabeth," Percy gave her a quick hug and took advantage of the fact that she temporarily couldn't see his face to yawn widely. If he had to sit through another lecture about all the damage sleep deficiency could cause, he thought that it was genuinely a possibility that he would fall asleep standing.

Annabeth squinted at him suspiciously.

"You know," she started hesitantly, "There was a pretty big storm out there just now, I heard the guys talking about how fast they had to row back to avoid being ripped to pieces."

Percy's throat tightened. Sure, _he_ couldn't be killed by the ocean, but it didn't grant that courtesy to everyone else. There could have been blood on this hands today.

Annabeth noticed the sudden slip of Percy's smile, and the slumping of his shoulders in that familiar set of guilt.

"Oh Percy." She sighed.

"Don't worry about me Wise Girl," Percy tried to make his voice lighter than it felt. "Worry about yourself. I'm just a tad dangerous around this time of the year. I have to go get ready though, so I'll see you at breakfast."

Percy set off for the direction of his house before remembering something he had forgotten and whirling around to see Annabeth gazing into the ocean with a look of concentration and anxiousness. Probably calculating the percentage of Percy getting reaped into the games.

"Happy Ancient Games Annabeth!" Percy exclaimed with as much enthusiasm as he could manage doing his best not to show the troubled feeling creeping up his spine. The sea was slightly churning and moving a bit more than usual, and Percy tried to calm his nerves down, hoping Annabeth wouldn't notice. Annabeth smiled sadly at him with a nostalgic expression on her face. She looked like she had just seen his thread of fate being cut, and Percy almost glanced around for old ladies knitting giant socks. She stared straight into Percy's eyes her face displaying hope and despair and the same time. Percy resisted the urge to turn away so that he wouldn't have to see her expression.

"And may the gods be ever in you favour Percy."

Percy rushed home taking a shortcut through the fish market, so that his mom wouldn't realise that he had been sleeping out in the ocean again. He just hoped that he didn't smell like rotting fish now, but his mom probably wouldn't notice since he always smelled like the sea. He didn't sleep on a boat all the time, it was just that sometimes, his nightmares kept him awake, and the sea always calmed him down.

Silently slipping back into his bedroom that he shared with Tyson, he studied his brother's sleeping face. Well Tyson wasn't Percy's actual brother, they were half-brothers, but Percy had never figured out who Tyson's parents were. They looked completely different with Percy having sea green eyes and hair as black as ink. He was a natural born rebel, and completely unpredictable which were character traits for the dead in Panem. Tyson on the other hand, had soft brown eyes and hair. His smile showed his slightly crooked teeth, but it was a warm and infectious one. Percy found himself grinning every time Tyson smiled. Tyson was naïve and just a cute little brother who caught insects with his hands and let them outside the house before Smelly Gabe found them. In which case, they would already be dead within 10 feet of him because of the stink. But two years ago, Smelly Gabe had finally disappeared from Percy's family's life, which was a huge relief for everyone.

Tiredness clouded Percy's thoughts since his restless nightmare filled sleep hadn't exactly done him much good. Slipping back under the covers of his bed besides Tyson, Percy sighed and closed his eyes again. Maybe a little nap wouldn't hurt…

Sally Jackson stood in front of her sons' bedroom biting her lip. Today was the reaping, and this was the first time that Percy and Tyson would both be in it. She was incredibly anxious about both her sons. Softly opening the creaking door and peering in, she saw Percy sleeping soundly drooling slightly on his pillow, a relaxed and peaceful expression on his face. He looked about 7 years old right now, and a bit of Sally loosened inside. She knew that Percy had been having nightmares almost every night and he would sit at the breakfast table rubbing the dark circles under his eyes. She felt so helpless because there was nothing she could do except sit next to him and stroke his hair.

Tyson lay snoring lightly beside Percy, and Sally stifled a laugh at his adorable face. She loved both of them so much, and at this moment, she tried something she hadn't done before. _Poseidon, if you hear this, please make sure our sons stay safe and come back home,_ she prayed silently. Swallowing a lump of anxiety, she gently shook Percy and whispered in his ear, the phrase that had been his alarm clock since he had made the discovery of waffles. "Breakfast's on the table."

Percy sat at the breakfast table emptying the syrup bottle onto his plate. Annabeth was at Percy's house as they always went to the reaping together- it was a tradition. She looked slightly disgusted. "Percy, you're drowning your waffles in syrup."

"I'm a son of Poseidon, I can't drown and my waffles can't either." Percy replied through a mouthful of blue food. Annabeth didn't look particularly impressed with his eating etiquette.

Blue food had always been a thing in Percy's household. It was like, if waffles can be blue, Percy can make it past the Reaping. Swallowing hastily, Percy noticed Annabeth glancing at the time. It was an hour to the Reaping, and they had better start making their way down to the town centre. Percy had taken a luke-warm bath and was currently wearing a white shirt and some trousers that weren't jeans. Tyson was wearing one of Percy's old shirts that were in better condition, and they just about fit him. He looked nervous and kept fiddling with the frayed end of the shirt, eyes darting around the room every few moments. Percy could understand, his own knee was jerking up and down. Percy gently tucked Tyson's shirt in and stood up suddenly feeling younger. He was like this on his first reaping as well.

"Mom, we should probably get going."

"Yes, Percy and Annabeth dear, make sure that you look after Tyson, I'll be where I always am, and I'll pick you all up after the Reaping." Percy's mom replied hesitating when she said that she would pick them all up. A faltering smile was stuck on her face. Percy's throat tightened, and he hugged his mom before lightly guiding Tyson out the door. He really didn't want to think about the fact that she might not be able to pick all of them up.

Effie Trinket, the District 4 escort stood on the podium in all her sparkly glory. Percy would never understand the Capital and their trends. It was just barely above Hades's fashion sense, and that was because Percy didn't really approve of the whole tortured souls being sown into cloth idea, but maybe that was just him. Effie was almost bouncing with excitement, her heavy white wig adorned with ornaments went springing with her. Percy was in the 14 year old demigod section, and he could see Tyson's curly brown hair in the 12 year old demigod section, since Tyson was tall. Annabeth was lost in the enormous crowd of shifting colours of the mortals, and Percy wished that Tyson could be standing beside her, instead of being a possible reaping. Demigods were obviously the minority here, and as Annabeth always reminded him, the less demigods there were, the greater the probability of him getting picked. There had been a brief shameful moment of his life when he felt glad that the gods were inherently polyamorous cheaters in the first place, before he remember all the pain of a single parent his mom had to go through.

With his ADHD brain, Percy managed to zone out of everything that Effie had said and the Mayor's opening speech. He focused on Effie's wig that had been knocked slightly crooked when a former victor Dakota had hugged her through his drunken state before he had thrown up. Percy absent-mindedly wondered whether that would be cut from the official clips.

By the time it was finally time for the reaping Percy's foot had bored a shallow hole in the ground, his fingers tapping at his sides, and he felt like he had just eaten a double sized pack of super sugared cappuccino-flavoured jelly beans and was about to be sick. Effie, walked towards the boys bowl. Percy held his breath. It was usually girls' first but apparently, that was too mainstream for Effie. Her manicured hand stirred the boy papers around and Percy's breathing quickened. He prayed to every single god he could name that the piece of paper in Effie's hand didn't have his family's name in it. Time was painstakingly slow as she lifted the elegant piece of paper up and unfolded it before reading off the name. A name that made Percy's legs freeze and his blood turn cold.

"And our boy tribute is Tyson Jackson!"

 **I don't know as much about the Hunger Games as PJO, so tell me if I've made any mistakes.**


	2. The Storm Before the Games

**Rosycat-Thanks for being my first reviewer!**

 **EmG2000- I'm glad that you like the story, sorry that I took so long to update.**

 **Penny Lu- Yeah, you're right about the whole Tyson thing, thanks for mentioning it. My story will probably start a bit like the original Hunger Games, and then develop into its own plot. Thanks for reminding me to update, I've been doing a pretty bad job at it.**

2 The Storm Before the Games

Percy's mind froze for a few seconds after the name had been called out. Icy cold panic was clawing its way up his spine, and he felt like he had just been dipped in the River Styx; when he finally broke out his fear-induced daze, he could see his little brother trembling as Peacemakers flanked his sides and he forcefully marched him up the path towards the stadium. Percy could see Tyson's lower lip trembling and his wide brown eyes darting around desperately.

That was enough to shock him awake, and impulsiveness took hold of Percy before he even realised it. His body moved faster than his mind as he forced his way through of the crowd and pushed Tyson behind him, away from the hungry smiles of the people sitting behind their televisions.

Taking a deep breath, he realised what he was about to do, and he almost smiled at his own unluckiness and the way that he had always known that this would happen someday. So much for being named Perseus. Maybe this would warn parents that unusual names didn't really bring luck, they just made it really hard for kids to find personalised mugs with their names on it.

The Peacekeepers looked visibly surprised by his sudden appearance. They probably remembered him from what Percy liked to call the statue incident of 3015 which marked the sorrowful death of one of President Snow's statues. It had been an accident. Mostly.

But the Peacekeepers had questioned Percy anyway, probably under President Snow's orders. They couldn't prove that he had done it one purpose, since young demigods, which were just starting to learn how to use their powers, lost control all the time. Especially if it was a child of the Big Three like Percy, the only child of Poseidon.

The bulbous head had been placed so elegantly and obnoxiously on a fountain, and all Percy did was conveniently lose control of his powers while standing next to it. Not that it hadn't been satisfying to see President Snow's head plonk off, but there had a lot of extra effort put into the burning of forbidden Poseidon statues in the days following immediately afterwards, courtesy of Snow, which in Percy's opinion was just a little childish for the President of Panem. Honestly, President Snow was not what you called statue-genic, so Percy had thought that he would be him doing a favour, but sadly, it seemed his efforts were not appreciated.

Percy still remembered praying to his father after that to make sure he didn't end up as a smoking lump of seaweed for the sudden drop of the popularity of sea god statues.

Percy had made plenty of trouble for Peacekeepers over the years, and he was proud to say that he could name the vast majority of them by now from meeting them so often. Annabeth had always helped him devise plans, albeit a bit disapproving, but thanks to her, his excuses had let him get away with all the anti-Capitol stuff he had done over the years with practically no punishment. It allowed him to make himself, probably the most irritating citizen of District 4 to the Peacekeepers. Not one of his best achievements, but one he was proud of nonetheless.

It didn't look like it was going to be very helpful in this case.

"You!" a Peacekeeper with glaring brown eyes barked at Percy, a hostile expression clear on his face. That was the one who accidentally got some water shot up his nose. The word accident being loosely applied _._ The other Peacekeepers were composing themselves, faces hardening as they reached behind Percy to yank Tyson back, but Percy stopped them by stepping forwards into the intimidating space that Tyson had filled just moments ago. Some of the brighter Peacekeepers understood and straightened back up, smiling with their teeth bared, glinting sharply in the sunlight. Percy swallowed hard and looked away from their predatory stares before lifting his head up at Effie.

"I volunteer. I volunteer as tribute." Percy did his best to keep his voice from shaking and his legs from trembling. Silence rang throughout the air. Looking back to glance at Tyson, he saw his milky brown eyes brimming with tears, and his mouth opened in a shocked 'o'.

And then, a sight that made his mouth drop open in shock, he saw Nancy Bobfit, his deadly arch nemesis in school, scurry like a frightened mouse to Tyson before pulling him into the crowd, his face and body melting into a crowd of shifting colours. He couldn't believe his eyes, he had thought that Nancy would rather eat Hades's gym shorts before she would help him, but a lump rose in his throat, and he sent a smile to her that told her how incredibly grateful he was that she got Tyson out of danger. He only hoped that it didn't look like the sorrowful sort of smile someone would give as they were being marched to their execution.

Effie broke the deadly hush that had fallen across District 4 with a delighted sigh. "Come on up dear, how lovely that we have a volunteer this year!" Percy turned his head to see a Peacekeeper give him a savage grin and a hard push before his legs moved of their own accord and walked slowly up to the stage.

"You don't know how long I've waited for this day kid, Happy Ancient Games punk. And may the odds be ever against you're favour." The Peacekeeper spat in his ear. Percy swallowed before throwing his ultimate I'll-kill-you-later-if-I-don't-die glare at him. Mounting the steps, he stood beside Effie and her gloriously lopsided wig.

"What a wonderful surprise! Do we have a name for the courageous boy?" Effie's voice sounded bright enough to be Apollo's teeth, and Percy winced before answering.

"Percy Jackson."

Effie looked way to happy about this. "Oh, I'll bet that was your brother you just volunteered for! How heart-warming! We haven't had a volunteer in simply _eons_. Well, everyone, give a round of applause to our boy tribute, Percy Jackson." A deafening wave of clapping cascaded through the air, and Percy blinked in surprise. He had never thought that he was popular, but maybe volunteering for your brother boosted you up a few levels in the pecking order. He wouldn't really suggest it as a feasible way to gain popularity though, the consequences seemed a smidge too steep. 'Instant popularity, only at the price of death! Half-price sale, instant popularity at the price of mental scarring for the rest of your life!'

"And now, the young ladies!" Percy tried zone out the cameras that were so rudely interrupting his personal space and, focused on the way Effie's blue eyelashes were getting magnificently tangled on her face. He fiercely hoped that the girl tribute would be some one that he didn't know, even if it would be a complete stranger that he would be training with. Percy couldn't even imagine what he would do if the girl tribute was someone that he knew, someone, who would eventually end up dead. Connections just made everything worse in the Ancient Games.

Effie fished out an elegant cream coloured slip of paper, which Percy swore, could have been enough money for Percy to buy lunch. The Capitol was ridiculously luxurious in its supplies.

"And the female demigod tribute for the 74th annual Hunger Games is… Annabeth Chase!"

Percy's heart stopped. He could feel his the familiar tug in his gut which happened when his emotions got out of control. Percy tried to swallow it down and suppress the churning in his stomach.

"Wait," Percy hoped he didn't sound as desperate as he felt. "Annabeth's not a demigod." Searching through the crowd, he tried to find Annabeth while his veins felt like they had been injected with ice.

When he finally spotted her, he took in her shocked expression and immediately guarded face. Her eyes were stone, glaring at the Peacekeepers who were now crowding around her, tugging her roughly out of the crowd. But Percy could see the forced line of her jaw the clenched fists at her side, and he knew that Annabeth was doing her best to hold herself together, for him, for Tyson, for everyone else. Seeing her expression just increased the urgency of the sirens that were already blaring at a head-splitting volume in his mind.

"Annabeth's not a demigod, she wasn't entered in the Games!" He could hear the desperation bleeding through his tone now, but he didn't care. He could see Annabeth being forced to walk towards the stage by a Peacekeeper, who was guiding her harshly with a large hand resting on her shoulder, pushing her forward every few moments.

Percy watched helplessly as they reached the stage, and the Peacekeeper decided that he would give Annabeth a final shove, since she had stopped moving. Annabeth's feet looked frozen to the ground, and Percy knew the barely concealed terror that lay under the surface of the calm face she was maintaining. She was barely keeping it together, the shock of being reaped, visible on her face.

In a flash, he was beside her, and as the Peacekeeper's meaty arm rushed forwards to push Annabeth, Percy stopped it halfway, gripping the large arm tightly. His fingers couldn't wrap all the way around, but nonetheless, Percy squeezed as hard as he could before flinging it away from Annabeth. His mind raced furiously as it tried to comprehend what to do.

"Annabeth's a mortal, she's not entered in the reaping!" Percy shouted at Effie. He tried to calm down the panicked emotions with logical reasoning- Annabeth's forte. It was just a mistake in the system, Annabeth was definitely mortal, she hadn't developed any powers at all, and she was already almost 15. Normal demigod powers turned up at about age 10, and there was no way Annabeth had been keeping it a secret. Percy would have definitely known if she had powers, he had seen her go completely mental before, and if that didn't trigger some demigod powers, he didn't know what would. If it had been him with a fear of spiders, District 4 might had been flooded.

But even as Percy's mind tried to reason to itself, he felt a sinking in his gut and desperation clawing at his logic. He already saw pieces falling into place, the parts that he never understood until now. Annabeth's incredible intelligence that Percy had thought was just a District 3 trait. Her lack of powers, while still being a demigod. Her unknown ancestry, and strange stormy grey eye colour reinforced his suspicions. He hoped that he was so terribly wrong, that it would be a misunderstanding, but he severely doubted it. He stared up at Effie, begging her with his eyes to agree that this was a mistake, that Annabeth should never have been entered in the reaping. But her next words shattered his hopes completely, confirming his thoughts and fears.

"I'm sorry, but we have traces of godly blood from blood tests. There is no mistake Percy Jackson, you two are the tributes from District 4 this year. Perseus Jackson, son of Poseidon, and Annabeth Chase daughter, of Athena."

Athena. Percy closed his eyes in defeat, of course, it made sense. But when he turned to look at Annabeth, he saw raw confusion, shock, and terror in her eyes. So she hadn't known either.

He could see it all now, President Snow's fool proof plan. His absolutely flawless plot made by his cunning vicious mind. Percy had always been a nuisance to Snow, the only son of Poseidon, a signature troublemaker who has potential to become extremely powerful.

Strong enough to start becoming a pain in the Capitol's _podex_ if he was allowed to roam free any longer. It would be easy to eliminate him in the Ancient Games, no one would challenge the fairness of the reaping. And of course, just for extra insurance that Percy wouldn't accidentally win, he purposely reaped Annabeth too.

Percy's fatal flaw of loyalty had become too well known, too quickly. Snow didn't hold back at all, and he knew that Percy could never kill Annabeth. Percy felt locked in an airtight box with his oxygen supply dwindling. There was no way out of this situation.

Percy felt pure hatred cloud his thoughts, combined with fear of the arena, Annabeth's safety, and the looming prospect of his own death. He could see Annabeth's wide eyes when they both felt the first few drops of rain brush their faces. She gripped his arm tightly and felt the way that Percy was trembling.

"Percy, calm down." Annabeth whispered in his ear. Percy did his best to follow her advice, but his powers were still immature and growing. His control over them was weak, and they still responded to his emotions easily. Rain painted the ground darker and darker until it was pounding down, drenching the whole of District 4. If he had gained popularity by volunteering for Tyson, Percy had probably effectively lost that now, by soaking every citizen in the district. Percy's clothes were perfectly dry, and he tried his best to concentrate on drying Annabeth too, while attempting to suppress the violent tugging in his gut. Annabeth's clothes became like Percy's, and she sent his a grateful smile full of concern when she saw his struggle to control his rampant powers.

Slowly, a slight tremor in the ground started, growing until small cracks appeared on the floor. Percy sent a wild terror filled expression at Annabeth, which broke her heart. She clung to him, and looped her arms around his neck in a hug, frantically trying to think of something to stop the hurricane that was bound to start any moment. Percy collapsed onto his hands and his knees, shaking violently in his struggle to stop the torrential storm. Annabeth needed to think of something to help Percy stop- and fast.

"Seaweed Brain, remember Nico." Her hair whipped in all directions, and for a second, she thought that it wouldn't work, but the rain lessened, the earth stopped shaking, and the wind stopped immediately. Percy stared at Annabeth, his eyes wide with shock and sadness, so deep that Annabeth felt like she was drowning in them, until she realised that she was still clinging on to him. Blushing furiously, she let go.

Percy rested his head on Annabeth's shoulder for a while, and she could feel the shudders that jolted his shoulders. He slowly stood up, and held his hand out to Annabeth. Together, they made it up the stage, to Effie who looked shell-shocked, her wig completely lost in the wind. Maybe Aphrodite would appreciate the silver wig as a generous offering from Percy, but he seriously doubted that she would ever wear something as horrendous as that. Percy picked up the microphone rolling gently on the floor of the stage.

"Believe me when I say that the gods are definitely in our favour."


	3. The Absent Parents

**Hi? If you guys aren't dead from the wait yet, then I hope you enjoy. If it's not too much of a bother, I revised the first two chapters, and hopefully improved them from the level of my 2 year younger self, so I would recommend you read them again, if not just to refresh your memory of what this fanfic is even about, because it's been _that_ long.**

* * *

 **The Absent Parents**

Percy tried to ignore the trembling glass of water that was rattling on the table. It had already been twenty minutes since the moment he and Annabeth had been reaped, but the constant clink of glass on the table proved that his emotions were still far from calm.

He could see Annabeth worriedly eyeing the swirling water from her seat in the room, but she kept the silence, trying to help Percy maintain his treacherous balance, while he closed his eyes and concentrated on releasing the twisting of his gut.

Percy hadn't lost control in almost a year, but this event had shown him how risky he still was. And he hated it, hated the fact that he could never control this overwhelming power enough to ensure the safety of everyone he loved. It felt as if he was a ticking bomb, because no matter whose advice he sought, or what paths he tried to change, his life was like a story with the finale exposed before the plot. Training helped massively, but Percy knew, deep inside that his power would never be something that could be controlled. It was all he could do, to hope that it would never control him. In fact, maybe President Snow had the right idea by using the Ancient Games to eliminate the threat now, before the inevitable casualties were scored into Percy's conscious.

A knock on the door broke through Percy's thoughts and concentration. The glass shattered into a million shining pieces, skittering across the table and onto the floor softly like broken fragments of hopes and wishes. Annabeth flinched in surprise, while Percy buried his face into his hands miserably.

The heavy wooden door opened to reveal a tanned man in a Hawaiian shirt complete with flip flops and a suffocatingly powerful aura. He radiated the rolling ocean, and Annabeth's eyes widened at the sight of the god who had never looked so out of place in the orderly controlled room of the capitol. His eyes which had previously held a twinkle were now dull with worry and concern.

"Dad?" Percy asked incredulously.

Poseidon gave a tired smile laced with apologies. "Percy, I've come too late as always, the only thing I now have to offer are the regrets of the gods. You deserved so much more than this."

It sounded as if the gods knew that Percy wouldn't survive to see his next birthday, and who was Percy to argue against divine fate? He used to have dreams about dying young, and everyone knew that his dreams usually came to life in the most terrifying ways.

"Like what Dad? Am I supposed to be destined for greatness, is that what this whole prophecy which no one will tell me about is supposed to say?" Percy muttered. All his life, there had always been a set storyline, words which spelled out his future in cryptic words. And these days, it seemed that everyone else knew how his life would unfold. Everyone but himself.

Poseidon eyed the broken glass which decorated the table with an array of dangerous shards, glimmering as light bounced off them and split in all directions. "You will learn of your fate in time Percy. But this unpredictability, this uncontrollable power, I'm sorry that I passed it to you."

"It comes in useful at times." A hint of a smile tugged at Percy's mouth, filling Annabeth with strange relief that she could still see the sparks of rebellion that made him so unique. "In the presence of very annoying people. I could imagine making President Snow's wine strangle him in the middle of his obnoxiously long speech."

Poseidon laughed, the storms which had been gathering in his eyes disappearing briefly, replaced with a fondness that he reserved for Percy only.

Annabeth hated interrupting the family reunion, but she hesitantly cleared her throat to address one of the most powerful gods.

"Lord Poseidon, how long will it be, until the gods regain their powers?"

Poseidon's expression was guarded and careful as if he was worried that the wrong words would break them. "My brothers Zeus and Hades and I are almost fully recovered, but many of the other gods are in varying stages of healing, though the time until we are ready is unpredictable. It could be a few months' time." He paused, seemingly torn, "Or it could be a few more centuries."

Annabeth felt like crying, but she surprised herself, as well as Percy who stared at her with wide eyes, when a bitter laugh escaped from her mouth.

"A few more centuries? That's what we were fighting so hard for? That's what Percy and I risked our lives for when carried out your commands like good little soldiers and painted huge red crosses onto our backs? Look where it's landed us, it was literally a death sentence!" Annabeth could remember years of cryptic messages from the gods flashing through her dreams, moving her like a pawn on a chessboard of death.

And the prophecy. Percy's prophecy. Rage curled in her veins when she thought of it. She had heard the nightmarish words years ago, and yet the sleepless nights it had given her haunted her since. For all the things that had wavered her faith towards to the gods, this was at the top of that list, because what parent, and what family would ever, let their child be born in a death trap like that?

Poseidon looked appropriately torn, but Annabeth could also see the furrows of his brow as he studied her, considering whether it was worth the trouble to keep her alive. Because she wasn't really needed, she was expendable. And the gods had never really been able to convince Annabeth that they had hearts instead of the holes carved into their chests from eons of death.

But evidently, the sea god realised that killing Annabeth, despite her harshly clear judgement would risk the extent of Percy's loyalty.

"You can't expect too much from us," he advised, "Not even in the arena."

"I'll expect nothing." Percy said, causing a look of hurt to flash across the god's eyes.

"We are not as cruel as that," Poseidon seemed tired as he pulled a ballpoint pen out, offering it to Percy. He held it as if it was a murder weapon instead of a writing utensil.

There was a moment of silence before Percy broke it reluctantly. "I hate to state the obvious, but that's a pen, Dad." Nevertheless, he held out a hand to take it thinking maybe it was extra sharp for stabbing with. Everyone knew the lengths that the tributes would go to, just to sneak a little extra advantage into the arena, before their entire lives began spinning wildly out of their hands.

But then as, Poseidon placed it in his palm, and he suddenly understood the weight of the object, he could feel the magic piled upon the pen like layers of lead. Cautiously, Percy slid the cap off, and recoiled slightly as the pen promptly sprang into its full form as a celestial bronze sword.

"Anaklusmos," Annabeth murmured, reading the bronze writing etched into the swords above the worn leather grip. "Riptide." She translated.

It was so like the gods, she groaned internally, to give Percy a cursed sword, as if he didn't have enough bad luck, and odds against him. She could feel Poseidon shrinking from her scathing glare, as she turned it on him. But Percy seemed happy enough, so Annabeth didn't mention the bloody history behind the softly gleaming blade. She guessed that this was probably the first gift he had received from his father.

Poseidon cleared his throat lightly, causing Percy and Annabeth to look up, after the sword was capped. But this time, his gaze was directed on Annabeth.

"Ah, Annabeth, I also had a gift from your mother, who I gather, you know by now."

"No thanks to her."

"Um, yes, your claiming did take a rather long time, but that is quite understandable for a daughter of Athena."

Annabeth shrank from the words. This was the first time, the words had been spoken aloud, the title which had granted her a probable death. It ruthlessly broke the constant cycle of denial, and realization she had been running through her head. But the fact that her mother hadn't bothered to come to see her daughter herself still hurt her. The fact that Poseidon was giving her Athena's gift stung.

"Why couldn't Athena come herself?" Percy asked sharply, noticing Annabeth's churning emotions. He always did.

Poseidon sighed, "Out of all the gods, Athena was probably the most affected out of all of us. She is the most scattered. There is no other reason than this."

"Just pass on her gift then." Annabeth said resignedly.

Poseidon offered her a Yankees baseball cap, a relic that must have been from centuries ago, when a country called the United States of America had once stood in Panem's place. Annabeth had read of the freedom, the joy of the extinct country in history books, but never had she seen such well-preserved evidence. She tried not to gape.

"What does it do?" she asked admittedly curious, because if she was indeed a daughter of Athena, who could blame her?

"I'll leave that to you to find out, Miss Chase," Poseidon winked, "But I think you will be quite pleased. Happy Ancient Games Percy. The gods will always be in your favour."

Percy and Annabeth averted their eyes as a brilliant glow shrouded the room, burning red through their eyes. And then the god was gone. Silence reigned in the room for a few moments before Percy broke it.

"That was such a… god-ish this to do." Percy smiled at Annabeth, who smiled shakily back. Her emotions were a mess, and she didn't trust herself to do something impossibly crazy like scream, or hug Percy, so she gathered her energy to study the cap left in his hands. A rough bang on the door jolted both of them out of their dazes.

Peacekeepers yanked the door open, filing around Percy and Annabeth in what looked like a formation to march them onto the train.

"Maybe President Snow should spend less money on your ridiculously shiny white suits, and buy you all some watches, because it's not time to leave yet." Percy glared fiercely with a sinking heart. "Tributes get to say goodbye to relatives."

"New policy, sea scum," a peacekeeper shoved Percy forward. "After your little scene out there, you're under a highly reactive status, deemed unsafe for mortal visitors."

"Excuse me for finding the irony in being called highly reactive by trigger-happy thugs." Percy retorted while being tugged out the door. He could see the cameras trained on him immediately, like beasts eyeing a meal. And so, even when he felt like screaming inside, he gritted his teeth and glared at the camera, trying to keep calm at the idea of not being able to see his mom before the Ancient Games. Before his death.

Annabeth was being pulled along similarly, also adopting a composed image for the public. And although Percy hated the idea of Annabeth in the arena with him, for the first time, he felt a curling comfort that wherever he went, he still had Annabeth with him, and they had each other's backs.

And with that idea in mind, they were shoved unceremoniously onto the district train.

Percy reeled at the whiteness of the luxury room. It was ridiculously decorated with ridiculous ornaments and horrible modern art that reminded him of Tyson's childhood. "This is ridiculous." He said out loud.

Annabeth was muttering under her breath, what suspiciously sounded like, "I could have designed this room better than this." Percy believed her.

"I think that maybe President Snow is taking his name a bit too seriously." He said to the shiny white walls and shiny white tables. "I doubt that even he likes the colour this much, but if he does, that just proves what an insufferable idiot he is."

"And why's that Percy?" Annabeth grinned despite herself, knowing that plenty of hidden cameras in this room were probably feeding their treason live to a certain murderous man, but she was just too tired of the lack of justice in the world to care.

Percy gave her a look of disbelief. "Because everyone knows that blue is the best colour."

Annabeth stifled a slightly hysterical laugh.

Just then, the train started moving, the only way that they could tell being the blur of green outside the windows, as the locomotive glided along the railway with the same ease President Snow ran the country, dispatching of anyone who stood in his way. Like a well-oiled machine.

Percy could feel the adrenaline slowly seep out of his blood, as the shaking of this hands and the drizzle of rain outside eventually slowed to a stop. He could no longer bring himself to stay angry at the world, to care about the innocent lives smothered by the sickly sweet existence of Snow. He was too tired to worry about the future, because the present was demanding enough as it was, and he was starting to find it a challenge to simply keep himself from blinking every two seconds from tiredness.

The post-power fatigue that Nico always complained about had never affected Percy, but now he wondered that maybe he has just never pushed himself hard enough out of fear for his lack of control. It certainly seemed the case as he sagged against the wall before sinking to sit on the floor. Annabeth looked concerned, but at the same time, similarly tired, smudges of darkness under her eyes.

"With great power comes a great need to take a nap." He quoted sagely at her. He thankfully managed to make it into a chair before his legs gave out, and his eyes refused to open again.


End file.
